


A Time With No History

by LittleMissLiesmith



Category: Gravity Falls
Genre: Alternate Universe - Fairy Tale, Alternate Universe - Historical, Beauty and the Beast AU, EXTREMELY Working Title, Family Fluff, Ford Is Basically Lapis Lazuli, Gen, warnings: cursing in chapter titles and notes
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-03-10
Updated: 2016-09-01
Packaged: 2018-05-25 20:42:46
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 8,592
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6209374
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LittleMissLiesmith/pseuds/LittleMissLiesmith
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dipper and Mabel Pines, the adopted child of the Professor, were just gonna go exploring in the woods while their caretaker was at a science fair. They get a lot more than they bargained for. Gravity Falls Beauty and the Beast AU, based on <a href="http://artsycrapfromsai.tumblr.com">artsycrapfromsai's</a> <a href="http://http://artsycrapfromsai.tumblr.com/post/140606261820/so-like-what-about-a-platonic-beauty-and-the">Beauty and the Beast AU</a></p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Our Illustrious Heroes

**Author's Note:**

> Based on [artsycrapfromsai's](http://artsycrapfromsai.tumblr.com) incredible [Beauty and the Beast AU](http://http://artsycrapfromsai.tumblr.com/post/140606261820/so-like-what-about-a-platonic-beauty-and-the), all credit to them. As per usual, updates when I feel like it, but I'll try to be quick with this one because everyone else is doing stuff for this AU and I don't wanna steal their ideas.

_Once upon a time, but not very long ago at all, two brothers lived in a castle. One was incredibly charming and seemed to be trustworthy, but he thought only of his brother’s well-being, uncaring for others and even less so for himself; the other was incredibly intelligent, but cared for nothing but his research._

_Thirty years ago on a cold night, a young man and his companions arrived at the castle and asked for shelter for a night. The second brother ignored them and returned to his work, but the first brother led them inside and sheltered them. But the next day, when the young man and his companions had set off to continue their journey, they found that they had been robbed by the first brother._

_Infuriated, they returned to the castle and demanded their possessions back, but the first brother laughed in their faces and slammed the door. Unknown to him, though, the young man was a powerful sorcerer and was angry at having been tricked. He saw that the first brother thought so little of himself, and cursed him to appear as he imagined himself to be; and he saw that the second brother never noticed how much the first cared for him, and cursed him into the form of one of his beloved books, to watch helplessly as his brother struggled to free them both._

_The young man informed the two that their curses would be broken if the first brother could learn the lesson assigned. Without telling them what that lesson was, he absconded from the castle, leaving them alone as the second’s pages began to fall, and their world began to die…_

-O-

“I can’t believe you actually think that’s real, Dipdop.”

Dipper Pines looked up from his book to glare at his sister Mabel as she lounged on the edge of the fountain. “It is!”

Mabel sighed. “It’s just made up! Like the stories Gideon tries to use to scare me. Someone made up a story about that old place in the woods, probably to keep people away, and now everyone believes it!”

“You can’t say that you don’t think it’s at least a _little_ bit true.”

Mabel huffed. “I did before Gideon started making up even worse stories. Then I realized that it was probably someone just like him, messing around!”

Dipper looked back down at the pages of the red book. “Yeah, well, I think it’s real. And I’m gonna find out someday.”

“Like the Professor would ever let us in the forest. He says it’s too dangerous.”

“I _know_ what the Professor says, Mabel, I—“

Whatever Dipper was about to say was cut off by Mabel’s loud groan. “Ugh. Incoming.”

She pointed across the square to a familiar head of white hair bobbing its way through the crowd, a burly man close behind. “ _Gideon._ ”

The one in question sidled up next to them, sitting with legs primly crossed next to Mabel on the fountain edge. “Mabel, my sweet!” he crowed, snapping his fingers. “Ghost Eyes, where’s that gift?”

The large man, Ghost Eyes, rummaged around in a bag and handed Gideon a small and clumsily wrapped box. Gideon presented it to Mabel with a flourish. 

Mabel took it carefully, giving Gideon a side-eye. “Oh…Gideon…you shouldn’t have.”

“It was nothing, peach,” he crooned.

“No, I mean, you really shouldn’t have.” She pulled off the paper and opened the box to reveal a small doll of Gideon.

“So you’ll always think of me!” 

Dipper snorted, face hidden in his book.

Gideon rounded on him, crossing his arms. “What was that, Dipper Pines?”

“Nothin’,” Dipper muttered.

Gideon didn’t take that as an answer and snapped his fingers again. Ghost Eyes grabbed the book out of Dipper’s hands.

“Hey!” Dipper jumped up, trying in vain to reach the book. “Give that back!”

“Not until you apologize to Gideon!” Ghost Eyes barked.

“What’d I do?”

“I don’t appreciate being laughed at,” Gideon snapped. 

“But you make it so easy.”

“ _Mabel!_ Not helping!” Dipper grabbed at Ghost Eye’s arm. “Give that back!”

As he struggled for his book, Gideon turned back to Mabel. “So, dove, have you thought any more about my…proposal?” He traced his finger along Mabel’s chin.

Mabel looked unimpressed. “I’m not interested, you creep! Besides, the Professor says I can’t date.” That wasn’t strictly true, but it made a handy excuse whenever Gideon came around. The Professor really couldn’t care less about what the twins did as long as they didn’t get arrested or killed, made minimal mess in the house, and at least tried to stay well-groomed. It was an arrangement that suited everyone involved; the Professor didn’t have to parent them, and Dipper and Mabel were left to do as they pleased. 

They did not please to be around Gideon Gleeful. 

Ghost Eyes grew bored with Dipper and tossed his book aside. Dipper shrieked. “You can’t do that, I was _borrowing_ it!”

“You’ll have to pay for it then,” Gideon said cheerfully. “I could help, if Miss Mabel goes on a date with me!”

Dipper grimaced, picking the book up by a corner and trying to wipe off the worst of the mud and dirt. “She’ll pass. It isn’t worth that much.”

Gideon growled, Ghost Eyes punched his fist, and just as things were going to get bad Susan from the bakery came bustling by, asking if anyone wanted any free samples. Mabel grabbed a sample, Dipper clutched the book to his chest, and they both ran off towards the edge of town. Susan could usually be counted on in a pinch to “rescue” them from any unwanted attention.

When they were sure they’d left Gideon and Ghost Eyes behind in town—the two didn’t appreciate going out to where the twins lived with the Professor, anyway—Mabel and Dipper slowed down, Dipper wiping at his book with his cloak and groaning loudly. “Look at this, Mabel! The bookkeep’s never gonna let me borrow anything again if I return it like this!”

“Relax, bro-bro, I’m sure he’ll understand.” Mabel was entirely more cheerful now that they had escaped Gideon yet again. “You’re his best customer.”

“Yeah, but my word against _Gideon’s_? He’s the mayor’s son, you know everyone’s gonna listen to him.” Dipper gave up on getting the mud off, instead holding it by the cover flaps in an attempt to let the pages dry out. “I’ll never be allowed to borrow a book again, and then my education will go down the drain, and I’ll never learn anything and the Professor will hate me and I won’t be the smart one and—“

“Dipper, calm _down_ ,” Mabel soothed. “You’re getting circular again. It’ll be fine. I bet the Professor can find something for you to fix the book with, and if not, we can pool our allowances and pay Mr. Durland for the book anyway.”

Dipper sighed. “Mabel, I can’t ask you to—“

“Which is why I’m offering! You don’t have to ask!” Entirely pleased with her reasoning, Mabel took her brother’s arm and dragged him along the cobblestone path. “C’mon, I bet the Professor’s got a cool new invention for you to look at. That always cheers you up.”

Dipper smiled a little and let Mabel pull him along the path towards the Professor’s shack in the woods.


	2. In Which Professor McGucket Has A Terrible, Horrible, No-Good, Very Bad Day

“PRO-FESSOR! WE’RE HOOOOOME!” Mabel bellowed as she kicked the door open. Dipper winced.

“I don’t think that door can take much more of you, Mabel,” he said, inspecting the rusty hinges.

“That door can’t take much of anything, it doesn’t even deserve to be called a door.” She waved her hand. “A piece of paper would do a better job of keeping robbers out! PROFESSOR! WHERE ARE YOU?”

A muffled crash sounded from the basement lab.

“There he is!” Mabel said cheerfully, dragging Dipper down the hall to the rickety staircase to the basement. “Professor McGucket! We’re home!”

At the other end of the room, a man flipped up the face mask he wore and grinned at the sight of the twins. “Dipper, Mabel! How’s town?”

“Town was fine!” Mabel chirped as Dipper looked around the room for something that could help him salvage his book. “We ran into Gideon, though.”

“He still want you t’date ‘im?”

“No surprises there.” Mabel groaned. “He just won’t leave me alone! I thought he woulda gotten the hint after you went for him with the spoon and the nest of wasps, but all that did was get him and Pacifica to convince the whole town you were crazy.”

“In Pacifica’s defense, not only did you attack her family home with wasps, you also made a robotic pterodactyl that tried to take over the town.”

“Not helping, Dipper. Prof’s not crazy, he’s just…” Mabel searched for a word as McGucket watched with a raised eyebrow. “Eccentric!”

The old man shrugged. “That works. There’s fixin’s for sandwiches upstairs in the kitchen, if you two’re hungry at all.”

“Have you eaten today?” Mabel asked with a raised eyebrow. When she didn’t get an answer, she sighed. “I’ll make some for all of us, then!”

She dashed upstairs, leaving Dipper and McGucket to stare at each other awkwardly. The twins had been under his care as long as they could remember, but the old professor wasn’t exactly the fatherly type. 

“So,” McGucket said finally, “you and Mabel had a good time?”

Dipper nodded. “Gideon wrecked my book, though.”

McGucket snorted. “Don’t you worry none. If’n you can’t get that fixed, we’ll find a way to pay back Durland—if he even asks to be paid back.”

“Of course he will, it’s his book!”

McGucket slapped the table in mirth. “Boy, I’ve known Durland for years, an’ lemme tell you, that man has no clue what he’s loaned to anyone. Half’a the books upstairs are his, I just took ‘em on extended loan.”

Dipper chuckled slightly, relaxing. “So. How’s the invention going?” He stood over his caretaker’s shoulder to stare down at what he was working on.

“I’m thinkin’ it’s almost done!” the old man said, prodding at it. “Soon’s I get the last bits together, I’ll be off t’the fair. Prob’ly by tonight, this evenin’ if’n I’m lucky.”

“What is it?” Dipper asked, staring at the strange clockwork creatures on the bench.

McGucket prodded one with the end of a wrench. It jumped up onto spindly legs and scurried around the workbench, leaving tiny indents where its sharp edges landed. 

“…What is it?” Dipper repeated, slightly alarmed. 

McGucket looked at the tiny machination currently bumping into his toolbox, then at Dipper, then back at the machination, then shrugged. “Reckon I d’nno. But it thinks f’r itself, just watch!”

Dipper watched. The machination seemed to realize its path was getting nowhere; it backed up, turned, and scurried back to McGucket, who flipped it onto its back and turned it off. 

“Wow.”

“Wow’s right!” McGucket crowed. “Soon’s I get the last of ‘em up an’ tested, we’re ready to go.”

Mabel chose that moment to come back down with a trayful of sandwiches. “Neither of you two eat!” she yelled. “You need to do that, it’s important!”

McGucket laughed and ruffled her hair fondly. “Thanks, sugar.” He took a sandwich off the plate and bit off a corner absently, going back to fiddling with the machination and a screwdriver. “If’n you two could get Wonker hitched up t’the cart an’ load up the bigger invention, that’d be swell.”

Dipper took a sandwich as well. “Can do, Professor McGucket!” 

The twins ran upstairs and outside, Dipper skirting around back to find McGucket’s larger invention for the fair—some kind of motion machine—and travelling bag as Mabel cooed to Wonker, their interestingly-named horse, and started the process of hitching up the cart. 

Dipper grunted as he shoved the machine into the wood cart and threw a patched blanket overtop. “There we go,” he said, patting it. “The professor said he’d be ready to go this evening, or tonight.”

Mabel stroked Wonker’s flank gently. “How long did he say he’ll be gone?”

“He didn’t.”

They didn’t have to wait long before McGucket emerged from the house in his “good outfit” and coat, holding the box of machinations. There was a faint mechanical hum from inside. “Nice job, y’two!” He placed the box in the cart next to the motion machine and grabbed his bag from Dipper. “I’ll be back’n a few days, maybe a week’s most. Money’s on th’counter for food, you two stay outta trouble and _outta the woods_ , ya hear?”

“Yes, Professor McGucket,” the two chorused.

“Right’n. Never had to worry ‘bout you two.” He mounted Wonker and waved to the twins. “Be seein’ you!”

“Bye, Professor,” they said, again in unison, as he rode off towards the path through the woods that led to Paris. 

When he was out of sight, Mabel turned to Dipper. “Whaddaya wanna do tonight, bro-bro?”

Dipper grinned. 

“….No, we are not playing your nerd game!”

“Mabel, come _on_ , if you tried it you’d like it—“

“La-la-la-la, I can’t heeeear you!”

~O~

Deep in the woods that night, McGucket had run into more than a bit of trouble. He had been chased by wolves, lost his machine and Wonker, and was now stuck outside the gates of a strange, run-down castle. 

He rattled the bars slightly. “H’llo?” he called. “Anyone there?”

The gates swung open.

McGucket looked hesitantly inside, then stepped through onto the mossy stone walkway that led up to the grand doors of the castle. When he reached those, they, too, opened with the slightest touch.

Wandering through the dusty and cobwebbed halls of the castle, the professor swore he heard voices.

“ _Dude, I think someone’s here—_ ”

“ _Sh-sh-sh-sh-sh, do you want to get in trouble with Monsieur?_ ”

“ _No, but we should be polite…_ ”

Finally McGucket reached the end of the front hallway. In front was a large staircase; darkness stretched above and to the left. Upstairs and to the right was a soft glow from a door cracked open. 

He ascended the staircase, pushed open the door, and stepped inside.

It was a small, well-furnished parlor. A fireplace burned brightly, and a blanket was draped over the back of a chair. It looked like the room had just recently been abandoned; a book lay open on the side table.

“Well, it wouldn’ hurt just t’dry off,” McGucket muttered to himself. “Maybe if’n whoever owns th’place comes back they’ve got a map I can use t’get back t’town….”

He settled into the chair, intending only to sit for a moment, but was distracted by the book. The words on the page—they were _moving_.

They were _writing themselves._

Slowly, in a beautiful script, the book spelled out _And who are you?_

McGucket stared down at it. “Er…I feel mighty silly talkin’ to a book…” he said hesitantly. “Fiddleford McGucket?”

The page flipped. _Nice to meet you, Monsieur McGucket. It’s been a while since I’ve seen anyone around here. What brings you to the castle?_

“I, er, I got lost. Thought maybe whoever lived here could help me find a way back home.”

_Where do you live?_

“Gravity Falls.”

 _Oh, I know where that is!_ The book turned a page again; a simple yet beautifully drawn map began to spread across the blank pages, an X overtop a tiny castle and a circle around a small town. 

McGucket touched the pages in awe. “What in blazes are ya?”

 _I am--_ The book stopped writing abruptly and shut itself. McGucket was so busy trying to figure out why he didn’t notice the shadowy figure approaching him until it was far too late.

A low, guttural growl sounded through the room. 

“ _What do you think you’re doing, laying hands on my brother?!_ ”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So many people have contributed to the AU at this point, there's no way I can incorporate everything and still stick to the things I know _I_ wanted to see when I first found it, but if there's anything any of you particularly enjoy, hit me up and I'll try and work it in!


	3. Dipper and Mabel Make Bad Life Choices

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This delay brought to you by SOUTHERN MOTHERFUCKING DEMOCRATIC REPUBLICANS.
> 
> Guess who got into Hamilton and proceeded to neglect everything else?
> 
> I’m back now.

Dipper and Mabel ran out of things to do two days after the Professor left. 

Dipper had read all of his books; Mabel had played with all of her toys. Whenever they tried to visit town Gideon was waiting with roses, chocolate, and other gifts for Mabel. She declined them all, but then Gideon, Ghost-Eyes, and his other weird friends would follow them around the whole time, and the trip became significantly less fun.

It was noon on the third day and Mabel was trying her hardest to make lunch (Dipper had been cooking all the meals and Mabel insisted on trying, despite the fact that her idea of food involved more glitter and small toys than anyone else would consider reasonable in an arts-and-crafts project, let alone macaroni) when the boy twin set down his pen and looked up at Mabel. “We’ve explored all of town,” he announced, pointing to his completed and detailed map of the village. “And the plains, and the fields. There is one place left to explore.”

Mabel took one look at his set expression and frowned. “Dipper! The Professor said we can’t go into the forest.”

“But Mabel, I’ve got to know what’s in there!” Dipper pushed his chair back from the table and stood, waving his arms wildly. “Think about all the cute animals we could find. We wouldn’t even go in too deep, just enough for me to take some notes and fill out the rest of the map!” 

Mabel sighed and looked at the blank edges of said map. “He _said_ , it’s really dangerous. We could probably die.”

“Since when have you cared about what’s dangerous?” Dipper grumbled. “The one time I _wanna_ do something fun and suddenly you’re pretending like you know what’s best for us!”

Mabel glanced out the window at the forest. “I just…maybe we should wait until the Professor gets back, and ask him to take us?”

“He’d never let us, and I’ve got to get notes, Mabel. I saw the weirdest thing the other day.” Dipper flipped to a sketch in his cheap black notebook and spun it around to face her. The lines were haphazard and it was difficult to tell what the subject was meant to _be_. “I think it’s some kind of goblin. Or a zombie!”

Mabel squinted. “Looks like a gnome.”

“Or a gnome! It could be a gnome. I bet if there’s gnomes in the forest there’s unicorns…”

In retrospect he probably should’ve gotten his stuff together before mentioning unicorns, because they were out the door in two seconds flat. Dipper barely had time to put out the stove and grab his notebook and backpack before Mabel was pulling him by the arm towards the forest. 

“C’mon, Dipper, we gotta go! The unicorns’ll be all gone by the time we get there with how slow you are!”

-O-

They really hadn’t meant to go so deep into the forest. Just enough for Dipper to sketch out what was left of his map to ink later, maybe find out whatever it was he had seen the other day.

By the time they realized that they had strayed from the path, it was getting dark.

Mabel shivered as a breeze ruffled the dry branches of the trees, sending some dead leaves down to her hair. “M-maybe we should go back,” she tried. “I think all the unicorns are asleep now…”

“Good idea,” Dipper said quickly, spinning around. “Er…which way did we come in?”

Mabel made a hesitant little noise, then pointed, waving her hand slightly. “That way-ish?”

They went that way-ish. 

“I don’t remember seeing this stump before.”

“We saw lots of stumps.”

“This one’s got a mushroom growing on it, Mabel, I think I would have remembered that.”

“I _know_ we passed that rock…”

“Yeah, like, five minutes ago! Not on the way here!”

“…Look, a woodpecker home!”

“That’s nice, Mabel.”

“Hey, Dipper, look at that sign.”

“Not now, Mabel, I think I found the path!”

“Dipper, this isn’t the path home…”

“How do you know that?”

Mabel pointed up behind her brother as an answer. He turned around slowly and gasped.

Looming from the darkness and the fog was an enormous castle behind a rusty iron gate. Gargoyles perched on the eaves and towers were high enough to be obscured by the night; the front door was a deep red, and there were paths branching off from the main walkway, presumably to gardens. Dipper could see some untamed topiary through the bars of the gate, and a statue that had fallen off a fountain to rest half on its side. 

“We might’ve been wandering longer than we thought,” he whispered, still in awe of the sight before him.

Mabel tugged on his hand. “C’mon, we should see who lives here!”

“Mabel! Are you crazy?” Dipper yanked away from his sister. “There could be a murderer in there! Or a monster!”

“Or,” Mabel said as patiently as she could probably ever manage, “there could be a nice old man who just isn’t great at gardening, or no one at all and we can just spend the night in the first room we find!”

“There could be bugs!”

“Bugs are our friends!”

She grabbed his hand again, tugging lightly. Dipper sighed and let her lead him to the iron gate.

Mabel reached out a hand, presumably to try to bang on the gate to see if anyone would let them in; but the second her fingertips touched the black metal, the gates swung open with a slow creak. Dipper gripped his sister’s hand tighter as they ventured towards the red doors, staring off towards the abandoned gardens. The fountains had long run dry, vines climbing up the short walls and over benches; a willow tree hung over a pond filled with green, scummy water. 

The doors were slightly ajar when the twins reached them. Each grabbed at one door with their free hand and pulled hard, slowly revealing a hall that had probably once been very grand. The carpet under their feet was eaten away by moths, the floorboards creaking; the grand staircase had a chandelier above it with cobwebs as thick as cloth. 

“Hello?” Mabel called out, voice echoing through the hall. “Is anyone here?”

Dipper froze. “Mabel, shush a second,” he muttered. She complied.

He closed his eyes and strained to hear—

“What’s up, bro-bro?”

Dipper sighed and opened his eyes again. “I thought I heard someone.”

“I didn’t hear anything.”

They continued to hold hands as they climbed the staircase, Dipper’s free hand picking up dust as it ran along the railing. Mabel pointed ahead. “Look. The candle’s lit.”

She grabbed it as they went by, situating the holder comfortably around her thumb and using it to try to illuminate whatever was ahead. Two long corridors stretched out from either exit of the staircase on the second floor. 

“Pick one,” Mabel suggested.

Dipper closed his eyes and pointed. 

“That’s a wall.”

He pointed again.

“Left it is.”

The twins’ every footstep echoed throughout the castle. Dipper held tightly to Mabel’s hand and the strap of his backpack as he stared up at suits of armor, closed doors, and high above, an arched ceiling with dirt-darkened paintings of Biblical scenes. 

Finally they found another staircase; a stone one this time, probably leading up to a tower. Mabel tugged Dipper’s hand insistently. “Should we?”

“Be quiet again.”

She did so. Dipper definitely heard it this time—whispers, coming from every direction, but primarily from up the stairs. He could make out a word here and there—“ _monsieur_ ”, “ _children_ ,” “ _curse_ ”, and then an entire phrase—“ _the old man_ ”. 

He looked at Mabel. Mabel looked at him. “Did you hear that?”

She nodded, ashen. “Who….”

Dipper leaned his head into the stairwell and tried calling up. “Hello? Who’s there?”

The whispers fell silent. 

The two took the staircase anyway. 

It was a long way up to the top of the tower, with occasional indents in the stone walls for more of the lit candles. Mabel held tightly to the one they already had all the same as they climbed higher and higher. After an age, they reached the top of the tower; a good bit bigger than Dipper had expected, all wet stone and flickering candlelight, and very obviously recently visited.

“Who lives up here?” he asked aloud, not expecting an answer. One came anyway, from a voice familiar enough to send Dipper’s heart plummeting straight into his stomach.

“Dipper? Mabel? What’re ya kids doin’ here!?”

Mabel shrieked in dismay, releasing Dipper’s hand and tossing the candle aside to run towards the source. “Professor McGucket!”

Dipper followed closely as she rounded a corner—much bigger than expected, then—and cried out in unison when they saw what was on the other side; a rusty cell, and inside, their guardian, leaning against the bars. “ _Professor!_ ”

“Kids!” He scrambled up, pressing his face to the bars. “What’re you—how’d you know I’s here?”

“We didn’t,” Mabel said quickly. “We were just exploring—I’m sorry, Dipper said there’d be unicorns, we were so bored—“

“We went into the forest—“

“We’re really sorry—“

“We didn’t mean to disobey—“

McGucket hushed them with a quick hand motion. “Shush, now. We’ll be discussin’ this when we get home, don’t you go thinkin’ we won’t, but we’ve got somethin’ more important. We gotta get outta here before—“

A roar echoed up the staircase. McGucket paled. “Too late. Run, go—“

“We’re not leaving without you!” Dipper protested, grabbing his caretaker’s hand through the bars.

“You’ve got to!” McGucket fired back. “You don’ know what we’re dealin’ with here—“

The roar came again, louder this time. McGucket pushed at the two as best as he could. “Hide, at least—“

It was too late. A crash came from the entrance to the stairs and a _something_ , something shadowy and dark, whirled around the corner and fell against the far wall. “What is the meaning of this?!”

McGucket shook fearfully, now trying to pull the twins closer to himself as they clasped hands once more. “I—this—“

Mabel squinted. “Who are you?”

The something growled, low and long. “I am the master of this castle, and this man had no reason to be here. And neither do you two! Who are _you_?”

Mabel stuck out her chest. “I’m Mabel Pines, and this is my brother, Dipper,” she said, not letting the slightest hint of fear color her voice. “And this is our guardian, Professor McGucket. I’dunno what he did to make you so mad, but you gotta let him go! He’s the only family we’ve got!”

The something rumbled again, and Dipper saw eyes flashing in the darkness. “He almost ki—ruined something important to me. I can’t let that slide. He’ll stay here. You two…” It hesitated. “You did nothin’. You can leave and go home.”

Mabel squared her shoulders. “Not without him!”

“Mabel!” McGucket and Dipper protested at the same time.

The something’s eyes flashed again. “This isn’t negotiable, sweetheart.”

Dipper felt Mabel squeeze his hand and press her thumb between their palms; their way of asking for trust and faith. “What if we stay here instead?”

“No!” shrieked McGucket. “You can’t!”

The eyes tilted, as if the owner was tilting its head. “You would stay here instead of him? Why?”

“He’s the only family we’ve got,” Mabel repeated, quieter this time. 

“Kiddo, you can’t—I’ve lived my life—“

“Can so!” Mabel shot back. “And will, if he lets us!” She paused, then looked over at the something. “…Hey…can you…come closer?”

A moment of silence, then the something obliged. Dipper watched, half in terror and half in awe, as a monster revealed itself—some chimerical creature with shockingly human eyes, wearing torn trousers and a cape. 

Mabel seemed to have none of his hesitancies, as should probably have been expected. “Oh my gosh!” she shrieked. “You are so cool!”

“Is this really the time, Mabel?” Dipper hissed.

“It’s always the time for a compliment, Dip-dop.” She ruffled his hair with her free hand, tightening the other around his. “So…what do you say, Monsieur Monster?”

McGucket had apparently given up on vocalizing his protests and was settling for quiet whines. The monster tilted its head appraisingly. “Seems fair. Two tiny humans for a bigger human.”

It stalked forward and opened the cage, pulling McGucket out roughly and slightly less roughly pushing the twins inside. “I’ll be back shortly,” it told them. “Wait here.”

Throwing McGucket over its shoulder as he protested, the monster went back down the staircase.

In the damp cell, Dipper and Mabel huddled together, hands entwined and heads pressed together, and waited.


	4. "It's a MAGIC CASTLE, I'm gonna live in here FOREVER" -Mabel Pines probably

“You,” Dipper said after an hour had passed, “are the worst.”

Mabel looked over at him, clearly hurt. “What?”

Dipper hunched his shoulders, drawing his hand away from Mabel’s and draping his arm over his knees. “Mabel, I love the Professor too, but you just sold us both into god knows what without even asking me what my opinion on it was! We could have found another way out, if you’d given me time—“

“He was _right there_ , Mabel said, clearly annoyed. “We didn’t have any time! And I thought you would’ve wanted to save the Professor too!”

“I didn’t know he’d need saving, I just wanted some samples!” Dipper moaned and put his head between his legs. “I’m gonna be sick. Are we just gonna be left up here to starve and rot?”

“Relax, I’m sure we won’t be—“

“Mabel, you just sold us to a literal monster in exchange for our guardian—who I love like a dad, don’t get me wrong, but I would’ve liked a minute to think it over—“

“Would you have made a different choice, then?” Mabel shot back.

Dipper was silent for a moment, staring at the rough stone floor. “No,” he said finally. “I wouldn’t have. But it would’ve been nice to be asked!”

“Well, I’m sorry, _next_ time we’re in abject danger and have five seconds to make a decision I’ll be sure to ask your opinion when I already know it!”

“How would you have already known? Don’t give me that!”

“You’re my twin! Of course I knew! I don’t spend time with anyone but you, you think I don’t know exactly what you’d do in every situation? Don’t you know that for me?”

“Yes, but—“

“Yes, but what? But you’re the smarter one? But you’re the one who makes the decisions? I can make decisions too!”

Silence fell. Finally, Dipper muttered “I’m sorry.”

Mabel scooted closer to him to lay her head on his shoulder. “I’m sorry too. I should’ve asked you.”

And that was how they sat, scarcely moving, until the monster came back. It felt like hours later; they had no way to tell.

It stood in the corner, almost awkward in its bearing. “Well,” it said finally, “you can come on out now. I’ll…show you to your quarters.”

“We have quarters?” Mabel asked, sitting up straighter. 

The monster nodded stiffly and turned for the staircase, looking over its shoulder one last time to make sure they were following. When it was satisfied they were, it grabbed a candle (cartoonishly small in its large paw) and led them down.

“What should we call you?” Mabel asked finally.

The monster was silent for a moment. Then, finally, to their surprise, “I think my name is Stanley.”

“We can’t just call you that,” Mabel muttered. “It’d be rude. Monsieur Stanley?”

“No. That’s what the servants call me.”

“You have servants?” Dipper asked. The other two ignored him.

“Okay.” Mabel lapsed into silence, clearly thinking. “Grandpa? No. Uncle? How old are you?”

“Probably too old to be your uncle.”

“Great-uncle.” Mabel hummed, and Dipper had only a second to realize she was going to bequeath unto their new caretaker a Mabelism before she announced “Grunkle Stanley!”

The monster cracked a smile at that. At least, it seemed like a smile, thrown over his shoulder and barely twitching up the corner of a lip—but still more emotion than they’d seen yet. “That’ll work, I guess. And who’re you two?”

“I’m Mabel Pines,” said the one thusly named. “And this is my brother, Dipper. We’re twins.”

“Twins…” the monster—Stanley—mused. “Huh. Well, welcome to the castle.”

There was a faint whisper that Dipper and Mabel couldn’t tell the source of or make out what it said. They exchanged a glance of surprise.

“Erm…The castle is your home now,” Stanley said after a moment. “You can go anywhere you want, inside and around the grounds, as long as you don’t leave. And don’t go to the cellar.”

“What’s in the cellar?” Mabel asked. 

“It’s forbidden.” His tone was sharp and brokered no argument. Mabel quieted for a moment.

It didn’t last. “So, Grunkle Stanley,” she began. “You said you have servants?”

“Yeah. You’ll meet them soon; they’re excited you’re here. We haven’t had anyone else in the castle for…a real long time.” Stanley’s expression tightened as he looked back at the twins. “There’s, er, somethin’ you should know about them…they’re a little…”

“Weird?” Mabel suggested.

“Dangerous?” Dipper tried.

“…inanimate.”

“What.”

Stanley chuckled at the reaction. “Yeah. See, uh…here, lemme introduce you to someone. Say, Soos, get out here!”

A hammer hopped over—definitely not a sight Dipper ever thought he’d see. A hammer with human characteristics and an honest, open smile. “What’s up, Monsieur Stanley? Do I get to meet the little dudes?”

“Sure.” Stanley reached down a hand and let the hammer hop into it, turning to show the twins. “Kids, this is Soos. He’s the handyman. He’s, uh, pretty well equipped for it.”

The hammer jumped in excitement. “What’s up, dudes? I’ll see you around a lot, I’m everywhere!”

“He really is,” Stanley muttered, placing Soos on his shoulder. The handle, seemingly made of wood, bent to accommodate a seated position. “Erm, what else?” He paused. “You will join me for dinner,” he finally said, rather harshly. 

“Monsieur Stanley!” Soos protested. Dipper and Mabel shrank back. Stanley seemed to at least realize he’d done something wrong, rubbed at the back of his head with his free hand, and finally stopped in front of a pretty little blue door.

“This will be your room,” he said, pushing it open to reveal a good-sized room with a peaked roof containing the right amount of furniture for two small children—two beds, two trunks at the ends of the beds, two bedside tables, a single dresser between, a rug in the center of the floor, a large wardrobe, and empty bookshelves. “Like I said, the castle’s yours to explore however you want. If you want separate rooms, I can try to find—“

“No!” Dipper and Mabel said in unison. 

“We’re fine together,” Dipper said hastily. 

Stanley nodded, a kind of quiet smile playing across his face for a second before returning to stony annoyance. “Right. I’ll be along to collect you for dinner shortly. You can…get acquainted with the staff.”

He swept away, leaving Mabel and Dipper to wander into the room and look around. Mabel selected her bed; Dipper opened the drawers of the dresser and the wardrobe doors, only to jump back with a shriek as the furniture called out with a large, deep voice “Hello!”

“Hello!” Mabel said cheerfully as Dipper scrambled to the other bed with wide eyes, clearly having taken the “talking objects” factor of the castle in stride. “I’m Mabel! Who’re you?”

The wardrobe bent more than a wardrobe should rightly be able to, a face forming from the top adornments. “Grenda,” it—he—she, Dipper decided, said. “I’m here to keep an eye on you two and make sure you’re doin’ okay!”

“Hi, Grenda!” Mabel scampered off her bed and over to sit in front of the wardrobe, staring up at her. “Do you actually hold clothes?” 

Grenda grinned and opened her doors with a gesture similar to sweeping arms wide. “Of course.” The clothing inside shuffled, entirely more of it than should rightly be contained in a relatively normal-sized wardrobe. 

Mabel jumped up and started rifling through. “Dipper, look! There’s a—what even is this? It looks cool!”

“Reverend’s outfit,” Grenda said, letting Mabel take it out. “Thought it looked nicer than the usual formalwear and it’s his size.”

“And look at this dress!” Mabel tugged down a giant, fluffy pink dress with a matching headband. 

“It looks like something huge and fluffy threw up,” Dipper said flatly.

“Dipper! It looks _magical_.” She held it to her chest and spun around as Grenda giggled. It was a surprisingly girlish giggle compared to her voice. 

“I don’t think you’re being serious enough about this, Mabel. We’re trapped in a castle—“

“A magic castle, Dipper!”

“ _Trapped_ , Mabel! And our guardian might or might not’ve gotten home safely, and we don’t know anyone here—“

“We know Grenda and Soos.”

“Other than Grenda and Soos, we don’t know anyone here, and we’re expected to go down to dinner!”

Mabel sighed. “Would it make you happy if we didn’t go to dinner?”

Dipper fidgeted. “Yes.”

“Then we won’t go to dinner.” Mabel handed the dress back to Grenda, who manipulated her doors to hang it back up. “I’m trying to make the best of it, but if you don’t wnana go to dinner, we won’t go to dinner. We’ll stay here for tonight and get used to things. If you get used to the room first, do you think you’ll be better?”

“Yes,” Dipper admitted.

“Then that’s what we’ll do.” Mabel put a hand on his shoulder. “See? It’s gonna be good, fine. We’ll stay here tonight. And everything will be okay. Tomorrow we can go exploring, and maybe have dinner with Grunkle Stan—“

“I thought it was Stanley.”

“That takes too long.”

“It’s one extra syllable, Mabel, it’s not that hard—“

Mabel burst out laughing. “I like it better!” She held out her arms to her brother with a gentle smile. “Awkward sibling hug?”

Dipper sighed and returned the smile. “Awkward sibling hug.”

They wrapped their arms around each other, gave the customary mechanical “pat-pat”s, and didn’t let go for a bit, instead resting their heads into each other’s necks and breathing in and out, quietly, slowly, getting used to what their life would be.


	5. What Kind Of Self Respecting Castle Owner Just Fucks Around In The Living Room When He's Got A Creepy-Ass Cellar To Play With?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *waltzes in to the update schedule six months late with Starbucks* Yo. This delay has been brought to you by SOUTHERN MOTHERFUCKING DEMOCRATIC REPUBLICANS. Please enjoy the slightly extended chapter as a compensation.
> 
> Hopefully the next wait won't be another six months!

They didn’t go to dinner. Stanley didn’t seem to mind all too much; at the very least, he kept his distance, sending Soos instead to ask them to come down and accept their refusal. He came up himself after a bit, staying on the other side of the door and asking them repeatedly, in a wide variety of ways, if they’d come down.

“I would be _honored_ if you’d join me for dinner.”

Dipper hid his head under the pillow. 

“No, thank you!” Mabel called. “We’re fine here!”

Eventually he padded away, with a final call of “if you want anything to eat, then head for the kitchens” and the hall was silent. 

They stayed in the room anyway. Soos eventually recruited the help of another palace servant and brought up a meal not that different from the sort they’d have had at home, if made with finer ingredients. 

Soos’s fellow helped push in the cart and hopped around to greet the twins. She seemed rather similar to Soos, but in the form of an axe; still as mobile and cartoonish, if a bit limited without arms, though she seemed to make do with the flat sides of her blade. 

“Who are you?” Dipper asked, grabbing a slice of bread off the cart and smothering it in jam. 

“The name’s Wendy.” The axe had the same strange way about her as Soos—both a traditional axe and something closer to human. Dipper’s head hurt to think about it for too long, so he didn’t. “My brothers and I all work in the forest—or we used to. We’re mostly done stockpiling for the winter now, so I’ve been assigned Soos-watching.”

“I don’t need watching!” Soos protested.

Wendy raised an eyebrow. Grenda let out a bellowing laugh from the corner.

“I guess you’ve met Grenda already,” she continued. “The others’ll introduce themselves when they’re ready.” She turned to hop out of the room, then paused. “Hey,” she said, a little more subdued. “Y’know, Stan—Monsieur Stanley—he’s not that bad a guy. I think he’s just happy to have someone new around here. Maybe take him up?”

She and Soos left before the twins could say anything. Grenda stayed silent in the corner. 

The twins ate their supper and went to bed and in the morning the tray was gone and there was a note under the door. It was asking them to come get a proper tour of the castle from Stan, Soos, and someone named “Candy”. 

Dipper wrote a neat “NO” on the back of the note and slipped it under again. Then he and Mabel spent the morning with a set of games from Grenda’s drawers, playing the only kind of chess Mabel was willing to play—without rules and with entirely too much improvisation.

Dipper reached across the board and moved the pawn Mabel had captured to the back of her pieces. “My pawns have tricked you successfully,” he announced. “They had themselves captured in order to work together. Now one of them has been freed and is a spy among your ranks.” He grabbed a little scrap of paper, folded it, and made the pawn “hold” it. 

Mabel giggled and had her knight turn around. “Well, while your spies were busy infiltrating, my knights were using their spare time to train the pawns here—“ She indicated three pawns. “To be knights of their own accord, and now they’re going to make an all-out attack on your castle. Be prepared!” She pushed the knights across the board, knocking over Dipper’s pawns.

“Too bad for you that my bishops have cast a spell. They have fortified the castle so that no one can get in or out!”

“Well, I’m holding a siege until you run out of food, and cutting off the communication line to the pawn in my castle so that he gets no instructions on what to do!”

If Dipper had any say in it, that’s how things would have stayed. He and Mabel would have food delivered to their nice room, and play with each other, and enjoy the company of the servants, and have absolutely nothing to do with Stan.

A few hours later, in the middle of the night, he woke up and Mabel was gone.

He bolted upright and looked around wildly. Her cloak had been removed from the hook, her shoes missing from beside the bed. Dipper rolled out of his own and urgently tapped the side of the wardrobe. “Grenda? Grenda!” he hissed.

The wardrobe woke up and yawned. “Dip-dop? It’s the middle of the night…”

“Mabel’s missing.”

Grenda was suddenly alert, opening up and rifling through a drawer. “You better go find her then—this place is dangerous!” She finally opened a smaller compartment and revealed a small makeup case. “Candy? Candy, wake up and help us out!” 

The case opened, the face of a pretty young girl with dark hair appearing in the mirror. “Yes, Grenda?” 

“Help Dipper find his way around the castle. Mabel’s missing.”

Candy nodded, hopping out of the drawer and into Dipper’s hands. “You will not get lost if I am your guide.”

Diperr retrieved his cloak and shoes and, Candy in hand, set off into the castle.

-O-

Mabel had found the kitchens, the library, a room full of _unusual_ displays (she’d have to show Dipper that later, he’d love it), and a dozen hallways and empty rooms, not to mention a few full of furniture covered in white cloth, but she hadn’t found out how to get to the cellar.

“Maybe I should’ve waited for Dipper to help,” she muttered, leaning on a cloth-covered wall mirror. “Then I could—whoa!”

Mable tumbled backward, cloth and all, as the mirror rippled and shimmered, and landed on her back in a small dark room. When she looked up, the “mirror” in front of her was a window to the room she’d just left.

“Whoa,” she whispered again, reaching for the mirror. Her arm passed through, the glass moving like water around it. She pulled back again and turned around.

A set of steps led deep underground.

Mabel grinned. “Cellar, yes! Finally!”

She grabbed a candle from the holder on the wall and started down the steps.

-O-

Candy directed Dipper into each room, one by one, and in each room they saw no signs of Mabel. Dipper was ready to give up and go back to the bedroom to wait for her when the two peeked into a sitting room with all the furniture covered in dusty white cloth—except for the mirror on the back wall.

Candy’s eyes widened. “She _didn’t_.”

“She didn’t what?” Dipper asked.

“Go on, look at the mirror.”

Dipper did so. There was no dust and no sheet, except—

A corner of a white sheet stuck out of the bottom, like it was caught in the frame.

Dipper gave an experimental tug. The rest of the cloth came flying out of the mirror, the glass morphing around it.

Dipper gave himself a second to gape and moved to step inside.

“Wait!” Candy cried out. “Leave me here. I don’t want to go _there_. When you return I’ll help you find your way back.”

Dipper nodded, set Candy down on a small table, and stepped through the mirror.

The room on the other side was cool and dry, despite being stone. It almost seemed carved out of the ground whole. There wasn’t much there, aside from another cloth-covered painting and a staircase. 

On either side of the painting was a candlestick holder. One had a lit candle, the other did not.

Dipper grabbed the remaining candle and pulled the cloth off of the painting.

It was hard to tell exactly what it had been. The painting had been slashed with a knife— _or claws_ , his brain helpfully informed him. He could make out two figures, their faces torn off, in clothing that was the fashion some thirty years ago.

He stared at the painting for a moment and started down the stairs.

It was a long staircase, but just as dry as the top room, like an attempt was being made to preserve something. The thought had only just crossed his mind when familiar laughter bounced off the walls and echoed up the stairs.

_Mabel’s laughter._

Dipper sped up, jumping the steps two at a time as the mumbles became Mabel speaking and it grew louder. He finally skidded to a halt at the foot of the staircase and stared.

It was a large, open room, almost like a chapel, with darkened stained-glass windows (weren’t they underground?) and bookshelves crammed with books. A desk, covered in a thick layer of dust and grime, sat under the largest window (a strange triangle with a circle inside, of green glass), and in the center of the circular room was an elaborate and beautiful bookstand. Mabel sat under the bookstand, a heavy red book in her lap.

She looked up. “Dipper! Dipper, look! You’ve got to check this out!”

Dipper scrambled over and sat beside her. Mabel balanced the book between them. “Monsieur Book, this is my brother, Dipper!”

Dipper was about to say something about cabin fever when he glanced down at the book. As if by an invisible hand, a single word had scrawled itself over the formerly-blank page.

_Twins?!_

Mabel grinned at the look on Dipper’s face. “Uh-huh. Twins! Dipper, this is Monsieur Book.”

_Please, call me Ford._

“Monsieur Ford,” Mabel amended. “We just met, isn’t this the coolest thing ever?”

Dipper could only nod silently, staring at the book in awe.

 _However did the two of you find me?_ the book wrote.

“I fell through a mirror!” Mabel chirped. “Dipper?”

“The mirror was uncovered and Candy said to check it out.”

 _Fascinating_. The book seemed to hesitate, then started drawing—a little caricature of a tiny Mabel falling through the mirror.

Mabel shrieked in delight. “How do you know what I look like?”

_Close me and you’ll see._

Mabel did so. The cover of the book had a shiny gold cutout of a six-fingered hand. It shimmered and a man appeared, like in Candy’s mirror—an older gentleman with a monocle, long grey hair in a ponytail, and a broad smile. The man waved and pantomimed opening a book. Mabel did so. “You can’t talk?”

_I can write._

Dipper was inspecting his half of the book. “How is this even—it can’t— _you_ can’t—“

 _Magic, Dipper m’boy._ The writing was a little lighter, almost playful.

“Magic!” Dipper glanced at Mabel, triumphant. “I knew the stories were real.”

Mabel rolled her eyes. “Y’know, I started to think you were right when our guardian got kidnapped by a giant magic monster!”

 _You mean Stanley?_ Ford wrote. _What about him—did he kidnap you?!_ The writing was darker the further it went on, a few ink stains appearing as well.

“No, no!” Mabel said hastily. “Our guardian was…kinda breaking and entering…and we rescued him. By accident.”

_…Your guardian wouldn’t happen to be a bearded fellow in an interesting hat, would he?_

“You know him?” Mabel exclaimed.

_He came to this place some days ago, looking for shelter. I’d been allowed upstairs for the day, but…I haven’t been since. Stanley was quite concerned for my well-being. I assume it’s because you two arrived._

“I’m sorry…”

_No need, my dear._

Mabel hummed and patted the edges of the book. “Well, now that we know you’re here, maybe you can go upstairs again! Grunkle Stan is nice, he’d understand.”

“Mabel, what did I say about making decisions for both of us without me?”

Mabel rolled her eyes. “Okay, fine, Monsieur Grumpy Gus, you choose—do we leave Monsieur Ford all alone in the creepy cellar, or do we let him come up and live?...as much as a book can.”

“Well, when you put it like that, _anything_ sounds bad!”

The book was vibrating. It took Dipper and Mabel a moment to realize Ford was laughing.

They started laughing too, and none of them could find it in them to stop.

The three laughed so hard, in fact, that they didn’t hear familiar heavy footsteps thudding down the stairs.

At least, not until they reached the floor and Stan let out a roar.

Mabel jumped, Ford falling into Dipper’s lap and pressing against the hand emblem in alarm, trying to see out of his prison. Dipper and Mabel huddled together, clutching Ford protectively as Stan stormed over. 

“ _What is this?_ ” he roared. “ _I told you to stay out of the cellar! Do you have any idea what you two little gremlins could have DONE--_ ”

He stopped short, staring at the book. There was a tiny tapping sound coming from the cover.

Stan knelt in front of the kids, oh-so-carefully taking Ford away and opening the book, using extreme caution so as not to rip the pages. 

_Stan, it’s fine! I’m fine!_

“They could have hurt you.”

_They wouldn’t have. I liked seeing other people. It’s been so long._

Stan’s face softened and crumpled. “Oh…”

_The kids are sweet. They weren’t going to hurt me._

Dipper and Mabel edged over and placed their hands on the sides of the book as Stan held it, ever so gentle, and traced the pages with a long clawed finger.

The next night, Dipper and Mabel joined Stan for dinner.


End file.
